"You must have guessed the object of my visit to-day, Nellie Darrel."
She blushed under his gaze, and looked away nervously.
"N—oo, I can't say that I do. I suppose you came to see my brother."
"Not so. It is you I wished to see, Nell. Why have I come here so often? I know you must have guessed before this. I love you, dear girl, and want you to be mine—"
He could say no more then, for Nell Darrel started sharply to her feet, pressing her hands to her burning face.
"No, no, not that." she murmured. "I never suspected that, Mr. Elliston."
"But listen to me, Nell," he pleaded, reaching up and attempting to draw her hands aside. "I can give you a handsome home in New York. If you will be my wife, I will return there at once."
She tore herself from his hands, and her confusion vanished, a feeling of indignation taking its place.
"Mr. Elliston, I tell you I do not love you, and never can. I was never more surprised in my life than now. You are old enough to be my father, sir."
He came to his feet also, and leaned with his hands clinching the top of a chair. There was a frown on his brow and a glitter in his black eyes unpleasant to see.